The Devils Daughter

Chapter Three: Claimed

He flipped me over suddenly, roughly, my face pressed into the mattress. His hands gripped my hips and yanked them up, positioning me on my hands and knees. I tried to look back at him, but his hand fisted in my hair and pushed my face back down.

"Stay down," he commanded. "I want you like this for your first time. I want you to feel every inch of me claiming you."

I felt him position himself behind me, felt the thick head of his c**k pressing against my entrance, and fresh terror spiked through me. From this angle, he felt even larger, even more impossible.

"It won't fit," I gasped into the mattress. "Please, it's too much-"

"It will fit," he growled. "And you'll take all of it."

He thrust forward without warning, without preparation, driving himself halfway inside me in one brutal stroke. The pain was immediate and blinding. I cried out onto the mattress. My body trying to pull away, but his hands on my hips held me in place with bruising force.

"Don't fight it," he snarled. "You're only making it worse."

But I couldn't help it. My body was trying to reject the intrusion. The stretch was too much, the burn too intense. He was tearing me apart. Splitting me open, and there was nothing gentle about it.

He pulled back slightly and thrust again, harder, deeper, and something tore inside me. The pain was sharp and bright. I sobbed into the mattress, my hands fisting in the sheets.

"That's it," he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Your innocence is mine now. Every part of you belongs to me."

He didn't give me time to adjust, didn't wait for the pain to fade. He simply took what he wanted, driving himself fully inside me with another brutal thrust that made me scream. I felt impossibly full, stretched beyond what should be possible. Impailed on him completely.

"Look at you," he growled, one hand leaving my hip to fist in my hair again, yanking my head back. "Taking a demon's c**k like you were made for it. And you were, weren't you? This is what you were always meant for."

Then he began to move, and any hope I had of mercy died.

He f****d me roughly, brutally, each thrust driving me forward on the bed. There was no building up, no letting me adjust. Just raw, primal claiming. His hips slammed against me, the sound of flesh meeting flesh obscenely loud in the quiet room.

The pain was overwhelming, but beneath it, something else was building. Each brutal thrust hit something deep inside me that sent sparks of dark pleasure through the pain. My body was adjusting despite everything. Getting wetter, making it easier for him to take what he wanted.

"That's it," he growled, his pace increasing. "Feel it. Feel what it means to belong to a demon."

His hand released my hair and both hands gripped my hips again. His fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. He pulled me back onto him with each forward thrust, using my body for his pleasure, and I couldn't stop the sounds escaping me. Broken moans and gasps that should have shamed me but didn't.

"Louder," he demanded. "I want to hear you break."

He changed his angle slightly and hit something inside me that made me cry out. Pleasure spiking through me so intensely it was almost painful.

He did it again, and again, each thrust deliberate and brutal, and that dark heat built to something unbearable.

"You're going to come on my c**k," he said, his voice rough. "You're going to come while I'm tearing you apart, and you're going to hate yourself for it."

One hand left my hip and reached around, finding that sensitive spot between my thighs. He rubbed it roughly, no finesse, just raw stimulation, and combined with the brutal thrusts.

I shattered. The orgasm tore through me violently. My body convulsing around him, clenching on his c**k as waves of pleasure crashed over me.

I screamed into the mattress, my whole body shaking, and he groaned behind me.

"That's it," he growled. "Squeeze my c**k. Show me how much your body loves being used."

He didn't slow down, didn't give me time to recover. He f****d me through my orgasm. Each thrust almost painful in my oversensitized state as he chased his own release with single-minded focus.

His pace became erratic, harder, and then he slammed into me one final time, burying himself as deep as possible. Heat flooded me as he pulsed inside, marking me from the inside.

The demonic marks on his skin flared so brightly I could see them even with my face pressed to the mattress causing something to pass between us. A binding, a claiming that went soul-deep.

He stayed buried inside me for a long moment. His hands still gripping my hips, his breathing heavy. Then he pulled out roughly, forcing me to whimper at the sensation.

Without his support, I collapsed onto the mattress. My body trembling, my thighs wet with blood and his seed.

He flipped me onto my back, and I saw him looming over me. His colorless eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He looked utterly inhuman in that moment. A demon who had just claimed his prize.

"Every night," he said, his voice rough. "I will come to you and take what is mine. And it will be like this. Rough and brutal and exactly what you bargained for."

"I know," I whispered, my voice hoarse from screaming.

He leaned down, his hand wrapping around my throat. Not squeezing, just holding, a reminder of his power. "You're mine now, Elara. Your body, your pleasure, your pain. All of it belongs to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I gasped.

"Say my name," he commanded. "Say the name of the demon who owns you."

"Vadlin," I whispered.

"Again."

"Vadlin."

He released my throat and stood, his massive form seeming to fill the entire room. He looked down at me. Naked, marked, bleeding, trembling, and something flickered in his gaze that might have been satisfaction.

"Sleep now, little mortal," he said. "You'll need your strength. Tomorrow night, I'll take you again. And the night after that. And every night until you forget what it was like to be anything but mine."

Then he was gone, dissolving back into shadow as though he had never been there at all.

I lay in the darkness, my body screaming with pain, my thighs sticky with blood and his release.

I could feel where he'd been inside me.

I could feel the bruises forming on my hips and throat.

I could taste blood where I'd bitten my lip to keep from screaming too loud.

I should have felt destroyed. Violated. Broken.

But beneath the pain, beneath the shame, something else stirred.

I felt alive.

I had survived. I had bargained with a demon and lived. The price was brutal, the cost higher than I'd imagined, but I was still breathing. Still here.

I pulled the torn remains of my nightgown around myself, wincing at every movement, closing my eyes.

Tomorrow I would face the consequences of this night. Tomorrow I would begin to understand what it meant to belong to a demon.

But tonight, I had survived.

And that was enough.